Is This Heaven?
by decoylullaby
Summary: When Prussia suddenly becomes ill Canada is worried that this is finally the end and that Prussia's life after the dissolution of his nation is at its close. However when Canada discovers that this is not the end of a life, but in fact the beginning of a life, it becomes his responsibility to protect those he loves most from harm. Warning: contains mpreg
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

It wasn't unusual for Canada to find himself feeling rather invisible at world meetings. This day was no exception. Canada sat towards the back of the room at the large circular conference table, watching his brother make an outrageous ass of himself as other powers tried to settle him down and reign in control of the meeting. It wasn't for lack of trying that Canada's statements never got addressed. Occasionally Canada would politely raise his hand and offer his take, although no one generally acknowledged him. At best, another country would suddenly look up and present the great idea he or she had "just had". Canada rolled his eyes.

"At least it's getting discussed," he muttered to himself, eager for the meeting to be over. He had been anxious to get back to his home, his kitchen, his food, and his bed. As Germany pulled the meeting back together he sighed and began stacking his notebooks together on the desk, pulling his bag around to pack them away. When the meeting was finally deemed over, Canada was the first to rise from his chair, drape the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and head for the door. He had almost made it out when he was surprised by his name being called from across the room.

"Yo! Mattie!" the voice exclaimed. Canada turned with wide eyes, seeking the speaker in the room full of bustling nations. Through the din, his brother America ran up to him with a huge grin on his face.

"Oh, hey, Al. What's up?" Canada said politely, adjusting the polar bear in his arms.

"Did you see me totally rock that meeting up there?" America asked excitedly. "I mean, no surprise, right? I'm totally the hero."

"Right," Canada said, glancing toward the door that he had almost reached, eager for the conversation with his egotistic brother to end.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask you something. Artie and I just finished renovating my house this week and I want to have an awesome kitchen-warming party! I thought you could come, and Artie would be there, obviously. Thing is, it'd be way more awesome and less awkward if you brought someone with you, since you know…Artie and I are kind of…"

America trailed off, a sheen in his eyes that Canada new could only mean he was thinking about just how intimate his relationship with England could be. Canada concealed his grimace. As happy as he was seeing his brother so in love, thinking about his brother and his childhood father figure "bumping uglies".

"Anyway," America said, returning to Earth, "Artie and I don't think it's very good for you to spend so much time alone in that frozen wasteland you call a country." America laughed obnoxiously at his own joke. "We thought it'd be good if you met someone you could bring over for dinner. And if you have trouble finding someone, Artie knows like, everyone in Europe. I bet he could set you up!"

Canada shuddered at the thought of a blind date. "Thanks, Alfred, but I'm really not the dating type. And besides, my economy's doing fine, I don't need a new alliance right now."

America pouted. He was causing a scene, but it seemed even stranger from the perspective of the countries leaving the room as they noticed America making a fuss and not much else. "Come on, Mattie! It'll be fun! Just give it a chance."

Canada sighed internally, just wanting America to act like a country of 200 and some years and not a baby. "Fine. I'll bring someone to dinner, but I _don't_ want you and Arthur setting me up, okay?"

America beamed. "I knew you could be convinced!" he exclaimed excitedly, running off towards England. "See Artie! I told you he'd say yes! Where's my twenty?"

Canada rolled his eyes. Of course America had turned it into a bet. Whatever, it wasn't his problem. The problem was that, unbeknownst to America, England, or any other countries as far as Canada knew, Canada's life in his "frozen wasteland" wasn't nearly as lonely as everyone assumed it was.

Canada's jet got him home in the late evening. At the airport, Canada retrieved his car from the parking lot and tiredly drove home, blasting Alanis Morisette to keep him awake the long drive through the winding countryside just outside of Ottawa, Ontario. When Canada finally pulled up to his large, cottage-like house, the driveway was freshly shoveled and a warm glow emanated from the windows. Canada pulled his duffle bag with his clothes for the weekend out of the trunk and made his way up to the inviting front door, humming as he made his way up the walk.

Canada swung the front door open and was washed over by a comfortable breath of warm air, contrast to the November chill from outside. Canada tossed his bag on the bench in the entryway, kicked off his shoes, and hung up his coat and car keys.

"I'm home!" Canada hollered into the house. He made his way through the halls and was barely six feet into the house before a small polar bear cub came tearing around the corner and charged at Canada. The blonde nation bent down and caught the polar bear as he ran directly into his arms. Canada snuggled the bear. "Hey, Kuma. Thanks for the warm greeting."

"Who are you?" the bear asked in its signature child-like voice, nuzzling closer into Canada's chin nonetheless.

"I'm Canada," the nation reassured his pet before setting him down on the floor. Canada made his way further into the house and gradually he caught the faint whiff of something sweet and high in carbs. His mouth started to water.

"P-pancakes?" he muttered to himself. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the finger foods served at lunch at the meeting. Quickening his pace, Canada hurried toward the kitchen, the smell getting stronger and stronger with each step, along with the sound of a march being hummed in a rough but lilting tune. When he finally rounded the corner, his eyes landed on the steaming griddle, covered with a half-dozen half-cooked pancakes, being gingerly tended by a silver-haired man in a red and white checkered apron, spatula wielded like a pro. He looked up the moment Canada entered the room and his eyes widened.

"Hey! I thought I heard someone!" he beamed, flipping the pancakes. "I thought you'd be hungry so I made you my awesome pancakes!"

Canada smirked. " _My_ awesome pancakes, you mean?" he corrected playfully, leaning on the island. Prussia and Canada had been seeing each other for nearly two years, ever since a chance run-in at a world meeting. They'd been living together in Canada's cottage for just over a year and a half. Prussia had insisted to his brother, Germany, that he was sick of sharing the albeit large German mansion with his brother and lover, Italy, and had rented an apartment in Spain, eager to experience new cultures given his nationless status. Canada didn't say anything to anyone and was rarely visited by other nations anyway. Thus, their relationship had remained private.

Prussia served up the tasty breakfast food and brought it out into the living room where they sat on the couch and watched Hockey Night in Canada, which Prussia had already set to record, knowing his Canadian lover would be home soon. Canada ate while contently snuggled into the crook of Prussia's arm, watching the game and occasionally hollering a criticism at the ref who couldn't hear him. At one particularly foul play, Canada threw himself forward, nearly leaping off the couch. Anticipating the reaction as soon as it happened, Prussia snatched the Canada's plate out of his extended hand before he could sling it across the room.

"What the fuck was that, you hoser!? That was totally a penalty! Put your goddamn glasses on, you old fuck!" Canada screamed at the TV. Prussia watched with semi amusement as Canada cooled down and returned to his spot nestled up against his lover. "Sorry, Gil."

"That okay, baby, you're hot when you're raging," Prussia said with a wink. A blush rushed over Canada's face at the suggestive comment, retrieving his plate from Prussia to finish his pancakes. Curled up against his lover, Canada sat through the game, trying to hold back some of his more spitting comments at the ref's calls. As the time ticked down, Canada felt his heart pounding in his chest. The score was tied between the Oilers and the Senators. He watched as muscular men slid down the ice at lightning speed, handling the puck with expertise and confidence. Just as the timer ticked out, one of the players took the shot and it grazed past the goalie's glove, swishing into the net. The buzzer echoed out of the speakers and Canada jumped off the couch. Prussia scrambled to catch the dishes that Canada upset on his way up.

"Yes!" Canada exclaimed. "Yes! They did it! Yes! Go team!"

Canada did a quick victory jog around the room before he jumped onto Prussia, straddling the ex-nation's lap and locking their lips in an excited, passionate kiss. Prussia set the dishes on the side table and kissed his lover back, rubbing his hands up and down Canada's heavy sweater before delving his fingers underneath to brush soft, warm skin. He felt a stirring between his legs as Canada unconsciously ground against him between heavy kisses. Prussia lowered his hands to cup the soft roundness of his lover's bottom. Canada moaned into the kiss, which did nothing to quell Prussia's arousal. He was slightly comforted by the fact that he could feel Canada's growing arousal pressing forward into Prussia's muscular belly. When the kiss finally broke, leaving a trail of saliva in the corner of each of their mouths. When Prussia finally caught his breath a little bit, he gave Canada a hungry, almost desperate look.

"Upstairs?" he asked breathlessly. Canada nodded and connected their lips once again. Prussia scooped Canada up and got to his feet, holding the backs of Canada's knees in his hands as he made his way through the halls, stumbling carefully up the stairs until he reached their bedroom. He tossed Canada toward the center of the bed and started to strip, peeling off his tight skinny jeans and band t-shirt, tossing them in the direction of the laundry bin. Canada struggled to slip out of his sweatpants and hoodie he had put on for the plane ride from his horizontal position. When they were both finally naked, Prussia climbed into the middle of the bed to straddle Canada's slim hips.

"Oh," Canada said through a moan. "I saw Alfred today."

"Did you?" Prussia prompted.

"Yeah," Canada continued. "He redid his kitchen. He wanted to have a dinner party. He wanted me to— _uh!_ " Canada exclaimed. Prussia smirked a little as he caused the Canadian to interrupt himself.

"He wanted you to what?" Prussia teased as his pushed himself.

"He—hnn—wanted me to—ugh, Gil—bring someone for dinner," Canada hissed out.

"Dinner?" Prussia repeated breathlessly. "I work too hard for my awesome body to eat America's fast-fried shit."

"Ah! Gil!" Canada said, throwing his arms out and digging his fingernails into Prussia's forearms. "I know. We've worked so hard to—Fuck!—keep everything quiet—"

After riding out their intense pleasure, both men collapsed on the bed.

"Fuck. You're so awesome," Prussia grunted, grinning at the ceiling.

"That's high praise, coming from you," Canada said with a breathy laugh. "You aren't too bad yourself."

Prussia rolled onto his side and wrapped his long, muscular arms around Canada's waist and pulling him close against his chest, nuzzling his nose into Canada's neck. Canada let out a short giggle, curling up around Prussia's touch.

"I missed you, _liebling_ ," Prussia murmured against Canada's neck. Canada rolled over so that he was facing Prussia.

"I missed you, too, Gil," Canada replied. He kissed the tip of the albino's nose before pressing it against his own. "I love you so much, Gil."

Prussia smiled, rubbing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss. " _Ich liebe dich auch_ ," Prussia said, his voice heavy with lust. He kissed Canada's forehead before burying his nose in Canada's hair and inhaling deeply. "You smell so good after I make love to you."

"Gil…" Canada mewled. As Prussia stretched up, Canada brushed his hands over the muscular chest of his lover and smiled as dampness came away with his fingers.

"Mmm," Prussia replied before pushing the covers down to crawl under them. He pulled the sheets up over Canada, kissing him sweetly on the forehead before rolling away from his lover and curling up to sleep. "Goodnight, Birdie."

"'Night, Gil," Canada replied thoughtfully before stretching out and closing his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey yall. So after some friendly reminders from anonymous party poopers, I've decided to tone down the nature of my story. If you choose to keep reading here then you're not missing anything important to the storyline as I've tried to keep everything that's implied, but a few paragraphs here and there will be absent. However, if you want to keep reading the MA version, feel free to check it out on AO3 where it's posted under my same pen name (decoylullaby) under the same title (Is This Heaven?). Both stories will be updated weekly and at approximately the same time hopefully.**

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Chapter two

Canada woke up early the next morning, despite the fact that he ended up going to bed quite late. Prussia was still sound asleep, so Canada went down to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast of peameal bacon, wurst, and porridge with blueberries and maple syrup. The food was almost ready by the time that Prussia finally made his way sleepily down the stairs wearing a pair of pyjama pants which he had pulled off the floor to cover himself. He sat down at the island and rested his head in his hands.

"I'm surprised you're awake," Canada said with a grin, dishing up his food and sides. Prussia smiled at the combination of Canadian and German meats and the oatmeal in which Canada had placed several large blueberries in the pattern of a smiling face. Canada had first made the joke of the "smiling breakfast" shortly after Prussia had officially moved in and in two and a half years it hadn't gotten old. Prussia nibbled on his bacon, watching the Canadian fuss to clean up the breakfast mess before finally sitting down to his own food.

"I'm never going to learn to do the dishes like West wanted if you keep doing them all the time," Prussia pointed out with a smirk. Canada smiled amiably at his oatmeal.

"It's okay, I don't mind," he said just as a blush crept over his face. "Especially after what you did for me last night."

Prussia smiled coyly, knowing what Canada was referring to but wanting to mess with him a little more. "The pancakes? Well that was no big deal."

Canada blushed deeper and started stirring his oatmeal. "Um…I meant more the…you know."

Prussia continued to smirk as he devoured his breakfast. "Watching the game? No worries, hockey's pretty awesome."

Canada looked like he was about to boil over with embarrassment. "The…when you…" Finally he gave in, burying his face in the sleeves of his hoodie. "Thanks for the sex!" he squealed, horrified by his own words. Talking about sex, even with his lover, was something that horrified Canada, at least outside of the bedroom. He'd picked that up from England, no doubt. Sometimes Prussia found himself wishing that Canada had taken a few more traits from his other paternal figure instead.

"You're welcome," Prussia said, happy to have gotten his way once again. "Don't worry though. Your awesome 'O-face' is enough thanks."

Canada squirmed, having maxed out his blushing potential, and tried to focus on eating. Between bites, Prussia could have sworn he heard the blonde mumble, "Knock it off."

"So, have you thought about what I mentioned last night?" Canada asked once he'd gotten most of the blood flow away from his face. Prussia looked suggestively into his bowl.

"I'm thinking about it right now," he purred. Canada rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

"I meant about the dinner at America's," he clarified. "I mean, I could bring you and we could make up a cover story. Or I could just invite like, Lovino or someone."

"How do you hang out with him? He's so mean!" Prussia said with a pout. "Angry Italians are so not awesome."

Canada shrugged. "He's nice to me."

"But he's already with Spain. Doesn't your brother want you to hook up with someone?" Prussia reminded him.

"I mean, probably. But I thought we were going to keep 'us' a secret," Canada said. "If we went to America's double-date dinner, wouldn't that be outing us?"

Prussia shook his head. "You don't get it. You don't have to tell him we're dating, but if you take someone who's already taken, you might as well just go alone!" Prussia sat up smugly. "If you want to get him off your case, bring your hot, single friend!"

Canada poured a cup of coffee for himself and Prussia to wash down their breakfast. As he sipped, he smirked stubbornly. "But you're not single, either."

"But _he_ doesn't know that!" Prussia exclaimed, taking the mug. "Just call him and say you found someone."

Prussia was never one to be left out of anything, even something as stupid as a dinner party at his lover's brother's house. Canada smiled. "Okay, I will later."

After breakfast was cleaned up and They had both showered and dressed (they may have exercised water-saving techniques), Canada called his brother from his room. He told America that he had asked someone to accompany him to dinner. America had talked his ear off for a while before explaining that he'd hold dinner Saturday night at 8 and that Canada should feel free to stay the night. With a smile, Canada thanked his brother and hung up before heading down to tell Prussia.

Prussia and Canada spent their week as they normally would. Canada attended meetings during the day or worked on his paperwork in the cozy office he and Prussia had refurbished together. Prussia spent the days watching TV, tidying up around the house, and checking the trees that he and Canada had tapped together the previous spring. At night, the couple took turns cooking dinner, watched some sort of sport or sitcom on TV, and then went to bed.

As the week rounded to a close, though, Canada found himself getting more and more anxious, to the point that on Friday night, as Prussia made love to him, he was unusually quiet, drawing Prussia's concern.

"Mattie?" Prussia asked. "Is everything okay?"

The flushed Canadian sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm fine. It's just that I'm worried about dinner tomorrow."

Prussia leaned forward, kissing the Canadian on the forehead. "Everything will be just awesome. I know it. Not as awesome as dinner at our house, but it can't be worse than England's food, right?"

"I guess," Canada agreed reluctantly. He couldn't admit it out loud, but there was something else bothering him. He loved the feeling of Prussia inside of him, and he was an amazing lover, but some part of him wanted desperately to experience things from his side. Yes, being stimulated from within was an unparalleled feeling and brought him a great deal of pleasure, but he was tired of the only external pleasure coming from his or Prussia's hand, or occasionally the Prussian's mouth, but that rarely lasted long. All told, Canada wanted to experience dominating his lover. But given Prussia's reputation he knew that would never happen.

Canada drove himself and Prussia to the airport early the next morning, after a quick shower and pack. His jet was already fueled and ready to fly them to DC for dinner with America. Canada was quiet on the flight, wringing his hands nervously. Prussia had given up on trying to offer words of comfort and instead settled for wrapping his arm over the Canadian's slender shoulders and rubbing gently up and down his arm.

The flight was short, only about an hour and a half, and when they got off the jet, one of America's cars was already waiting for them just off the runway. A driver in a black suit and dark sunglasses escorted them in, taking their bags and closing the door behind them. They took off from the airport and away from the city, heading along the highway toward the long driveway which led to America's humorously large house. As soon as the front door was in sight, America ran outside with the excitement of a small child. When Canada stepped out after the driver opened his door, America promptly threw himself at his brother.

"Hey, bro! So glad you could make it!" he hollered in a voice far too loud so close to Canada's ear. "Artie and I were just putting dinner in the oven so you're right on time!" He dodged his head around Canada's, trying to peer over his shoulder through the dark window. "So? Who'd you bring with you? Who's the lucky guy?" America quickly gave Canada a look that indicated he was surprised by his own words. "Or girl! I don't judge!"

"Al, gay marriage was illegal in your country until a couple of years ago," Canada pointed out. America waved the comment off.

"That was my bosses' fault, not mine. You know that Artie and I have been in a perfectly dysfunctional relationship for a century." He laughed loudly, but cut himself off when he saw the head of someone rise above the roof on the other side of the car. The silver head turned and locked eyes with America, beamed, and waved.

"Hey, _atze_ ," Prussia said with a grin.

America smiled a waved. "Oh, hey, Prussia." He turned back to Canada and shoved his shoulder. "Prussia doesn't count dude, he's not even a country!"

Canada raised his arms defensively. "You never said I had to bring a country. Besides, everyone else said they didn't want to hang out at your place. At least you and Gi— _Prussia_ get along." Canada stopped himself before using Prussia's human name, worried it might seem that they were too familiar

America considered Canada's statement, shrugged, and trekked back up the rocky driveway to the house. "Well come in then. Dinner will be ready pretty soon but there's drinks inside."

Canada followed a bit behind America toward the house, and Prussia pulled up close behind him. "So, what? I'm you're last resort now? Not awesome, Mattie," he whispered teasingly. Canada rolled his eyes.

"Look, if you don't want the whole world breathing down our necks wondering how a nation and an ex-nation can date, just shut your mouth and play the part," he hissed back. Prussia laughed heartily as they entered the house.

Inside, the sound made a chill run down the back of a certain Englishman's spine. Surely the small, demure nation he had raised wouldn't bring someone so…brash into his lover's home? America traipsed into the kitchen where England was currently cleaning up the mess while the food cooked.

"Alfred, please tell me that isn't who I think it is," England begged softly. America gave him a strange look.

"Who who is? Matthew? You knew we were inviting him over, silly, that's why we set the table instead of just taking dinner _to bed_ with us." America finished his sentence with a suggestive wink.

"No, you buffoon," England groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose to prevent the headache he could already feel. "Matthew's escort. Please tell me that isn't that loud-mouthed, rude pig, Prussia."

America's eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, it's Prussia, but I think you're over reacting," he said to his lover. "Prussia's a good guy. I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Of course _you_ don't," England agreed. The young American was as bad, if not worse, than the albino ex-nation in the categories he had listed before. "Never mind. Let's just eat and get this over with."

England was a quiet island nation, and as such he didn't enjoy hosting parties or having company. Unfortunately for him, he had taken one of the most social, extroverted nations in the northern hemisphere as a lover. America dug through the pantry, making a huge mess of England's organization efforts and emphasizing the Brit's point. "Artie, where'd we put the wine again?"

England rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, Alfred, I already put it out on the table. Did you really have to destroy the pantry before asking me?"

America stepped out of the pantry and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Artie! Come out and have drinks with us!" As America made his way out to the dining room, England distinctly heard the Yank mutter, "You could use it." With a scowl, he stomped after the American and into the living room where Canada and Prussia were sitting and chatting amiably.

America returned with four glasses and a bottle of wine precariously balanced between his hands. He set the glasses next to each guest and poured a rich red wine from California before falling into his favourite arm chair and taking a sip. "So, how did you two meet?"

Canada paled. He hadn't thought about a backstory. He couldn't say how he and Prussia had actually met three years ago, could he? Before he could even formulate a decent lie, Prussia was already talking.

"Awesome story," Prussia began excitedly. "I moved to Canada to practice my hunting, since there's not enough wilderness in Germany anymore. I was…less than awesome, but I wasn't gonna give up, so I kept trying, and I didn't have any money because West has all of it, so I knew I had to figure it out or die. There was a lot of fighting in the town where I was staying, and I didn't know if I was gonna make it, whether I starved to death or had to fight the townspeople for my life. But Canada found me, and I hadn't eaten in weeks, and helped me catch food and escape the treachery in the town. We've been best buds ever since!"

Canada stared incredulously at Prussia. _Damn it, Gilbert!_ he screamed in his head, willing the message to get into Prussia's head. _That's the plot to_ The Fast Runner _! And it's not even that good a summary!_ Granted, Prussia had gotten distracted after the sex scene. At least he'd left that part out. Now they were definitely screwed. America was going to see through the movie synopsis and know that something was going on between them, and everyone was going to start talking about them, and Canada hated having attention drawn to him. The 2012 Olympics, while exciting, had been a total nightmare. All of the countries at his house? No thank you.

To Canada's surprise, though, America was gazing at Prussia with a sparkle in his eyes. "Wow," he said, when Prussia was finally done. "That's amazing! Mattie, I had no idea your place was so intense! It's just like an action movie!"

Canada rolled his eyes and sucked back his wine a little faster than socially acceptable. He wasn't sure what he was worried about; of course America hadn't heard of the Canadian Indie film. Nonetheless, it was risky on Prussia's part. Beside him, England noticed the empty glass and filled it again. Canada drank heavily as America continued to prompt Prussia for more stories about his life in the Canadian wilderness and Prussia continued to poorly reconstruct Canadian film summaries. Mortified that America or England would see through the nonsense, Canada continued to down glass after glass of wine, and England continued to fill it, as a good host should. By the time dinner was ready, Canada had singlehandedly downed three quarters of the bottle himself, as America and Prussia were too busy talking to remember their refreshments. England and America went out to the kitchen to serve and bring out dinner, leaving Prussia and Canada alone in the living room.

"What'd you think of that, huh?" Prussia asked proudly. "Pretty good story, eh?"

Canada rolled his eyes, which only served to make him dizzy. "Yeah, whadever," Canada slurred. "Stupid idiot, whadif Amer'ca knew that you were full-a shit?"

Prussia's brow furrowed and he got up to walk over to where Canada was sitting, examining the empty wine bottle. "Hey, how much of that stuff did you drink?" he asked. Canada clumsily pushed Prussia away.

"Shuddup! Like, _none_!" Canada protested. He went to stand up only to have his vision quickly cut to black as the blood rushed away from his head and he stumbled back into the chair. Prussia caught his arms and slowed Canada's fall before he broke the American's chair.

"Okay, so a lot," Prussia corrected. "Damn it, I was so busy talking to America I wasn't keeping an eye on you."

Canada pushed Prussia's hands away. "Shuddup! You're not my babysidder," Canada said. "I can tay-care of myself." As if to accent his point, a loud hiccup emerged from Canada's mouth.

"Okay, birdie, let's get some food in that sloshy belly, hmm?" Prussia said, trying not to laugh. Canada drunk was something he loved to see, and it usually meant that once the alcohol settled in a bit, Canada would ride him like a drunken Mountie.

Once Prussia had helped Canada out to the living room and into one of the dining room chairs, dinner was served up and Canada almost visibly started to salivate. He started inhaling the food right away until Prussia gave his leg a light squeeze under the table.

"Slow down or you'll make yourself sick," Prussia warned quietly hoping their hosts wouldn't overhear. Such a warning was a little too concerned for "just friends". Reluctantly, Canada slowed down his scarfing, trying to eat more like a civilized country. Prussia rubbed his secret lover's thigh, attempting to convey a sense of praise.

"So, I hope you don't mind, but I only cleaned up one room for you guys cause I assumed Canada would bring someone he wouldn't mind sharing with, if you know what I mean." America finished with a wink. England rolled his eyes.

"…and by _you_ cleaned you mean _I_ cleaned," England corrected. America waved off his lover.

"Anyway, I can put together another room probably if you don't want to share," America offered. Since Canada was mentally indisposed, Prussia decided to offer a reasonable explanation. And by reasonable he meant as outrageous as his previous stories.

"Don't worry. Canada and I have had to share a sleeping bag to keep from freezing to death before. I'm sure a king-sized bed will be more than comfy."

Again, America's eyes widened with awe. "You guys are way cooler than I thought you were!"


	3. Chapter 3

**You came back! Yay! Please enjoy this new chapter. I love hearing your feedback so feel free to leave a review or a PM! Enjoy this week's chapter!**

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Chapter Three

After dinner, Canada looked less like he was going to fall over, but his words were still slurring. America served a New York cheesecake, which Canada almost swallowed whole, and after a cup of coffee (or tea for England), Prussia decided that he and Canada were going to retire for the night because Canada wanted to get away sooner than later in the morning. Prussia did his best to subtly guide Canada up the stairs after America as the Southern-most nation led them up to their room. Prussia was still blown away by the absurd size of America's house. Even the guest bedroom was almost twice as big as Canada's master bedroom at home. Prussia closed the door behind them, after America had headed back down the hall to help England clean up. As soon as Prussia's hands were gone, Canada reached up and shucked his dinner jacket before starting to unbutton his shirt. By the time Prussia reached the bedside light and turned around, Canada was stepping out of his pants and reaching back up to remove his boxers.

"Woah!" Prussia said softly, running to Canada's side. "Look, you're pretty drunk. We don't have to do anything. Besides, isn't it weird to do it in your brother's guest room?"

"Whadoyou mean?" Canada slurred. "We've done it in _your_ brother's guest room, and his kitchen, and his den…"

"Okay, yeah, but that's West," Prussia pointed out.

"Yeah. An' 'Merica's house is a thousan' times bigger," Canada countered, slipping his underwear over his ankle. His member was already standing half-mast, making Prussia's mouth water a little. "He'll never even find out. His room's like, four kilometers away."

"Probably not," Prussia said, but he was smiling. "If you're sure, I just don't want to force you into anything."

"I'mma force you into something…" Canada muttered, making Prussia smile wider. Canada was pretty cute when he was drunk. The blond shuffled over to Prussia and started to undo his lover's dress shirt, his fingers fumbling over the small buttons. "Git nekkid," he demanded impatiently.

Quick to oblige his demanding lover, Prussia put on a short show of stripping out of his dinner clothes. Canada nodded, his eyes half-lidded with alcoholic drowsiness and lust.

"Git on the bed," was Canada's next messy order. He gave Prussia a push on the chest and the albino sat back on the bed, centering himself on the large, soft mattress. Canada crawled after him and propped himself up on his lover's knees. Canada backed up for a moment, kissing Prussia's prominent hip bones, before something very strange touched his bottom.

"Matthew?" Prussia said hesitantly. "What are you… _Ah!_ "

The next morning, Prussia awoke relatively early – for him meaning before noon – and fetched his change of clothes, taking it into the attached bathroom to clean off from the night before. By the time he came out of the bathroom, he found Canada still in bed, curled up tightly and naked as a jay. He would no doubt be suffering from a hangover today. After all, he hadn't had any water the night before to keep him hydrated. As much as Prussia wanted to let him sleep, he also desperately wanted to get back home, so he walked over to his bare lover, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Mattie? Time to wake up," he said. Canada stirred slightly, rolling away from Prussia's voice. When the motion caused his head to throb, he reached up and covered his eyes with his fists, curling up tighter.

"Oh my god," he moaned. "What…what did I do?"

"Come on," Prussia said. "The awesome Canada can handle a little hangover." He pulled Canada by the arm, despite protests, and helped him out of the bed. "Now go wash off and we'll eat and go home, and you can be miserable as much as you want."

Moaning in protest, Canada sulked off toward the adjoining bathroom. Prussia watched how miserable his lover was and decided not to push morning shower sex this time. Instead he packed up the rest of his clothes and put them in his bag before making his way down into the kitchen. To his relief, England and America were already there, and food was being prepared for their guests.

"Oh, good morning," America said, looking up at Prussia as he entered the room. "Where's Mattie?"

"In the shower," Prussia explained. "He's not feeling too good after last night, so we're just gonna grab some breakfast and part ways."

America smiled and nodded. "Yeah, he was pretty pissed last night huh?" he chucked. "Artie's making some breakfast, it should be ready soon."

"Awesome," Prussia said, sitting down. Soon there was a mug of hot coffee in front of him and he was able to relax, although he did find that sitting down was uncomfortable. After another twenty minutes or so Canada finally emerged from the guest bedroom to join them in America's breakfast nook. Canada ate in silence, squinting at the table to keep the offending light out of his eyes. England gave him a knowing look and let him suffer in peace. America did nothing to help the matter by chattering non-stop at anyone who would give him the slightest amount of attention, despite Prussia's attempts to cut him off with curt responses. By 11 o'clock, Prussia and Canada were ready to head back to the airstrip where a jet would take them home, although America was under the impression that Prussia would be returning to Germany.

After the short flight back to his home, Canada wasted no time marching up the stairs and collapsing into bed. Prussia filled a bottle full of water for his lover and left it on the side table, shortly thereafter returning with a fruity hangover-fighting concoction he had invented over his many years of partying with the bad-touch trio. Canada didn't emerge from his room until dinner time as the smell of wurst and butter floated up through the crack in he bedroom door. Groggily, he took the second dose of aspirin he found sitting beside his bed and made his way downstairs, squinting against the brightness, where he found Prussia in the kitchen mashing potatoes while the wurst cooked on the stove. He turned at the sound of Canada entering the room.

"Ah! Good evening, _Dornröschen_ ," Prussia said with a chuckle. "Come down for my delicious wurst, eh?"

Canada couldn't help but smile a little while Prussia teased. He sat down at his island and waited for Prussia to serve him his dinner. When the plate finally slid in front of him, Canada didn't hesitate to fill his mouth. Prussia smiled and sat down with his own meal. It always made him happy to see Canada enjoying recipes he'd held onto from his days as a nation. Once his belly was full, Canada looked significantly cheerier than he had that morning and when Prussia had gone to check on him. Although his head still throbbed, he looked almost back to normal.

After dinner, Prussia decided that a quiet night was in order and opted for a movie instead of the riotous hockey games Canada loved so much. They snuggled in on the couch, choosing a trending rom-com from Netflix and settling in for a few hours of mindlessness.

By the time that the credits began to roll, Canada was fast asleep beside Prussia, breathing softly. Prussia smiled and lifted his lover up, carrying him up the stairs to their shared bed. He tucked Canada under the covers and climbed in next to him, falling into a restful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, y'all, welcome to another Monday. Guess what? I ONLY HAVE ONE EXAM LEFT so I'm going to be putting my heart and soul into writing! (I hope...). Sorry about the shortness of the last chapter, it was heavily edited for the purposes of this site and its rules. Again, if you're interested in reading something a little more _saucy_ , check out the full version on AO3 under the same name and alias! Also, I'm trying the Copy-N-Paste format for uploading. Please let me know if this works for you guys and if you prefer it one way or the other. It's easier for me to add in my author's notes this way!

As always, enjoy and I'll see you next Monday with a new chappie!

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Chapter Four

Late the next week, Canada's boss had made him go on a trip to Europe to improve foreign relationships, and to avoid arousing suspicion, Prussia stayed behind to look after Kuma and Gilbird. Although they talked every night, and Prussia phoned Germany to tell him of his awesome life living it up solo, after only a few days he felt very lonely. By Wednesday, the third day that Canada was away, Prussia had started streaming his favourite TV show, where the main character was almost as awesome as him (even though Canada insisted that dumb old _Ted_ was the main character). By Saturday night, when Canada was scheduled to return home, Prussia decided to prepare dinner for his lover. He made his way into the kitchen to prepare an easy meal (since his not-so-awesome cooking skills didn't permit much more). As he started to pull out his ingredients and heat them up, a queasiness washed over him and he tried to push it aside. It didn't make sense. He was way too awesome to get sick.

When he was half-way through cooking, the front door opened and shut and Prussia's queasiness had not subsided in the least. When Canada walked into the kitchen and complimented Prussia on the good smells, the albino forced a smile and crossed the kitchen to peck his lover on the cheek. However, he was unexpectedly wrapped in a bearhug.

"I missed you so much," Canada sighed, relieved to be back with his lover.

Prussia grimaced. "Excuse me for a minute."

He broke the embrace and rushed out of the kitchen, racing down the hall to the nearby toilet and slamming the door shut and locked.

Canada stood, bewildered, in the kitchen. That had been an interesting greeting. His concern was torn between the food now burning on the stove and the sudden disappearance of his boyfriend. Not wanting to see the house he'd put his blood, sweat, and tears into go up in smoke, he quickly turned off the stove and removed the pan before running into the hall in Prussia's former direction.

Canada soon found himself standing outside the washroom next to the dining room, listening as a series of unpleasant sounds coming from the small water closet. Canada tried to swallow his disgust, wanting to comfort his obviously ill lover.

"Gil?" he asked softly against the door. "You okay, baby?"

The sound of retching was his only response for a while. Eventually, Prussia's unusually weak voice muttered, "Yeah. Totally. Don't worry about it."

Too late. "Can I come in? Do you really want to just be in there alone?" Canada had always hated being sick all by himself. The few times his economy had really been in the crapper since their relationship had started, Prussia had always been there beside him, holding him while he ran fevers of 40 degrees and vomited all the food he tried to take in. He wanted to do the same for his own lover.

"I'm fine," Prussia tried to say delicately before he retched again. "Don't worry about me. You just got home, you must be hungry and tired."

Hungry? Not anymore, after listening to Prussia spill his stomach contents through the door. Tired? How could he possibly sleep knowing his lover was so sick? Prussia never got sick. Not having an economy or a population to worry about, he didn't really have a reason to. So instead of following Prussia's suggestion, Canada slid down the wall, pulled out his cell phone, and opened one of his favourite games.

"I'm not going anywhere, so whether you want me or not I'm right here if you need me," Canada called through the door. Prussia flushed on the other side of the door. He hadn't expected Canada to want to look after him. Still, it was different for him. He hadn't been sick since his country had been dissolved. And even though West insisted that he represented Eastern Germany now, West had always been the one to feel the greatest suffering when the economy or population was suffering.

When Prussia finally felt as though the heaving had stopped for the time being, he washed his mouth and face and emerged, paler that even he was accustomed to. Canada was still sitting on the floor beside the door, playing a candy matching game on his phone. He looked up when Prussia stepped into the hall.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked with concern in his voice. Prussia shrugged.

"A little, I guess." He put his hands in his pockets as Canada stood back up. "I kind of just want to sleep though."

"Okay," Canada said. "Do you want me to come with you? We could lie together."

"Sure, if you want to. I just don't want to get you sick, too."

Canada waved off the concern and followed his lover upstairs. He helped Prussia change into his pyjamas before curling up next to his albino nation.

For the morning, Prussia seemed to be doing much better. He ate breakfast with Canada, they watched a movie in the afternoon, and just before dinner, Prussia found himself locked in the bathroom, regretting eating at all that day. This time, Canada had followed him in and was sitting on the side of the tub behind Prussia, gently running a hand up and down his back as he vomited. Prussia groaned as another wave of nausea washed over him.

"I'm sorry, baby," Canada said sympathetically, rubbing his back.

Prussia heaved again, but it seemed as if his stomach was finally emptying. When he was able, he replied, "Not your fault."

"I know," Canada said meekly. "I'm sorry."

The remainder of the days that week proceeded much the same. Prussia would be fine during the day, but as dinnertime rolled around, he would be horribly ill. Each day he seemed weaker and weaker, until by the weekend he just lay in bed with a bucket on the floor beside him. He felt as though all his energy had left his body, and as he lay sweating and sore from vomiting, he felt his chest constrict. West had assured him that he was part of Germany now, and thus he wouldn't die. But ever since the day his country was dissolved, Prussia had always waited for the day that the loophole would fall through and he would be forgotten. He had always hoped that the death of a country was fast and painless, that he would just eventually disappear, like a bubble popped. He hadn't wanted to go out in pain, begging for death. All the years of tempting death in war, he wasn't about to get on his knees in his final hours.

"Matthew?" Prussia said weakly.

Canada jumped up from the chair across the bedroom, where he had been half-drifting to sleep. "Gil? What's wrong? Do you need something?"

When Prussia didn't reply, Canada made his way over to the bed and sat down, resting his hand on Prussia's head. "I love you," Prussia said. "Thanks for letting me live here and making my life good for a while."

Canada's brow furrowed. "What are you saying?" he asked nervously. "Why are you saying that stuff?"

"Well, I just wanted to say it in case…in case I didn't get to," Prussia muttered, looking away from Canada's concerned gaze.

Canada felt a bubbling pain in his chest. "Gilbert, stop that. You're not going to…" His eyes started to water. "You're not going to die, so just stop talking like that. Everything's…everything's okay."

Even as Canada said the words, the tears running down his face indicated that he didn't totally believe it. He couldn't deny that the thought had crossed his mind several times over the course of the week, but he wasn't about to validate Prussia's fears, especially if they were true.

Prussia watched as Canada cried silently over him. He slowly pushed his hands up over Canada's thigh and wrapped around his smaller fingers. "Hey," he said. "Don't cry. We had a good run. You made my life after being a nation worth living, eh?"

Unable to hold himself back at those words, Canada hiccupped once before the sobs shook freely from him. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around Prussia, holding him tightly and crying into the sheets. "Please, Gilbert, I can't lose you. You're the only one who notices me."

Prussia gently ran his hands up and down Canada's shaking back. "Shh, baby, it's gonna be okay."

Canada wasn't sure how he had been switched from comforting Prussia to Prussia comforting him. But he couldn't pull himself together, so he just let Prussia hold him and let the stress from the week pour out of him. When he finally stopped crying, Prussia had fallen asleep, exhausted from being ill. Canada wiped his face on his sleeve and took Prussia's bucket to clean it out, so at least he would have something to do. He didn't want anyone to know about their relationship still, but he knew he needed outside help to get through this. What if Prussia really was fading? If Canada were fading, he'd want his family—America, England, France—to know about it.

After returning Prussia's bucket to his bedside, Canada made his way down to his study and closed the door before pulling out his cell phone. It was getting late, but he had no idea what time it was where he was calling. Probably early morning. He dialed and held the phone to his ear, his heart falling at the sound of each ringtone.

" _Ja? This is Germany_ ," a rough voice answered.

"Germany? This is Canada. I'm sorry for calling so…early? Late? I guess I'm sorry I don't know what time it is."

" _Canada?_ " Germany repeated. He was silent for a while, and Canada realized that the older nation didn't know who he was. Canada sighed internally.

"Um, yeah. I live above America, I'm in the G7, you have an embassy in my capital and three other consulates in my major cities…"

" _Oh, Canada. Of course, my apologies_ ," Germany said. " _What can I help you with?_ "

"Um…I'm actually calling about Prussia…" Canada said. From across the ocean, Germany groaned.

" _Ugh, mein bruder, what did he do this time?_ " Germany asked. Canada shook his head, although Germany couldn't see.

"He didn't do anything," Canada said. "He's actually been…living at my house for a while."

" _What? That's not possible, he has been living in Spain._ "

"Um, no he's been living here. Anyway, the point is…he's really sick and I'm worried…He's been sick all week and I think maybe he might be…fading."

Germany was quiet for a moment, as if he was trying to comprehend the information he had been given. " _It is not possible that mein bruder is dying, he is the representative of East Germany now._ "

"Well, he's really sick," Canada reiterated. "And I'm really scared, I don't know what to do anymore. He's not getting better."

Germany sighed and sounds of shifting hissed on the line. " _I will be there soon. Look after mein bruder._ "

After Canada hung up, he texted Germany his address and went back up to Prussia's side. He was still fast asleep. Canada curled up in bed beside Prussia, pressing his forehead into his lover's gently heaving back.

Germany arrived early the next morning, startling Canada awake. He hurried down the stairs and let the tall muscular blonde into his home, leading him upstairs to Prussia, who had just risen. When he saw his brother enter the room, Prussia's eyes widened.

"West? What are you doing here?" Prussia demanded. His gaze turned to Canada and looked almost accusing. "Did you call him?"

" _Bruder_ , Canada was concerned for your health, as am I."

"My health? What are you talking about? I'm awesome!" Prussia protested, although he was paler than normal, even for him.

"Gilbert, you are obviously ill. We must find the reason for that," Germany said sternly. Prussia rolled his eyes, but pulled himself out of bed. Shaking on his feet, he made his way across the room and out the door, storming down to the kitchen. Canada looked helplessly at Germany, who merely looked tired. After a moment, he followed Prussia down the stairs, Canada not far behind him. Prussia already had his head in the fridge.

"Matt, where's all the beer?" he demanded. "There's no illness a good beer can't help."

Canada's eyes widened. "We…we don't have any, Gil. I haven't gotten any since we went to America's for dinner."

"Went to America's?" Germany repeated. "What's going on between you two?"

Canada stared at the floor. Prussia let out an exasperated sigh. "We're fucking, West. Like you and that Italian, but less gross."

Germany's eyes widened. "You're…in a relationship? But you're not a country anymore, Canada has no reason to ally with you."

Prussia barked a laugh. "Of course you'd say that. West, you know there's more to a relationship than just an alliance between two countries, right?" Prussia couldn't believe he was being so sentimental, so romantic… "I still have needs. And Canada…he lets me live here and gives me pancakes and shit."

Germany wasn't looking at Prussia anymore. Instead, he turned to Canada with an accusatory stare. "How long has this been going on?"

"T-two years," Canada replied meekly under the German glare. Germany's eyes turned to Prussia.

"And you told me you were living in _Spain_?" the blond demanded. "Why would you _lie_ to me, _bruder_?"

"Because! It's none of your goddamn business!" Prussia retorted.

"Gilbert, calm down," Canada muttered from across the room, still uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"I raised you from nothing!" Prussia continued, ignoring or not hearing Canada. "And ever since I collapsed, it's like I'm your ward! You keep both eyes on me twenty-four seven! You're overbearing and it's _so fucking annoying!_ "

"Gilbert!" Canada said, his voice louder and more forceful than Prussia had heard it in a long time. The albino turned his head finally. He locked his intense amethyst eyes on Prussia's red ones. "Enough," Canada insisted. "You're going to work yourself up and make yourself sick again."

Prussia seemed to process Canada's warning for a moment before huffing and walking toward the living room and collapsing on the couch. Canada followed him out and sat beside him, gently stroking the back of his lover's hand. Germany came out and sat down across from them in the chair.

"Tell me more about your symptoms, _bruder_ ," Germany said.

Prussia reluctantly spilled all the problems he'd been having the last several days. Germany nodded, logging the information in his head and trying to connect it to something familiar. A few hours later, Prussia was spent and starting to feel ill, and Canada invited Germany to stay for dinner but he declined curtly, indicating that he had something to do back home. When Prussia went to go lie down upstairs, Canada suddenly found himself feeling very alone again in his big house, a feeling he hadn't really experienced since Prussia had moved in. He made himself some dinner, gazing at his phone, wishing there was someone he could call to keep him company, but coming up blank. He didn't want to talk to America just now; he always felt like England pretended to care, but really just wanted to be left alone; and as much as France loved him, he wasn't generally up to talking about anything but the cute girl he'd chased around a bar the night before. Knowing he had but one alternative, Canada fell back on the couch, putting a hockey game on mute, and pulling out his cell phone.


	5. Chapter 5

Welcome back to this weeks addition of "Is This Heaven?" Slightly cut for the purposes of the rating. Again, if you're interested in reading the full version, check it out on AO3. Shout out to all of my followers/favouriters, each one of you is a special snowflake and I love you! Let me know in the comments if there's anything you'd like to see in the coming chapters!

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Chapter Five

Southern Italy, commonly referred to simply as "Romano" for his capital city, slammed the door shut as he stepped into his pitch-dark house. He pulled the knot of his tie away from his neck and hung his hat on the hook near the door. His head hurt from dealing with thugs fucking around all day and he wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch with a big glass of tomato juice. He pulled his handgun from its holster and slipped it into the drawer in the hallway and shuffled through the dark, familiar hallways before collapsing face-down onto the couch in the living room. The sound of soft footsteps made their way down the hallway from the direction of the bedroom. Strong, muscular legs straddled his hips from behind and work-weathered hands rested on his shoulders before deeply massaging the tense muscles there.

" _Buenas noches, mi tomate,_ " a rugged, Spanish voice purred from behind him. A chill ran down Romano's spine, and it wasn't at all unpleasant.

"Evening, bastard," Romano grumbled. Spain moved his talented hands down Romano's back and he hummed.

"Did you have a good day catching the bad guys?" Spain asked with humor in his voice. Romano rolled his eyes.

"I'd like to see you do so much, bastard," he rumbled. "All you ever do is tend that stupid garden of yours."

"But Lovi, you love my tomatoes!" Spain protested. He rubbed the sore muscles in the Italian's back even more, causing Romano to sink further into the soft sofa.

"Oh, fuck that feels so good," he moaned as the Spaniard rubbed his back.

"Mmmm, good," Spain replied, continuing his ministrations. Once he worked his way down to Romano's hips, he slipped his hands under the dress shirt and vest that covered Romano's toned muscles. He bunched the clothing up to Romano's neck to better facilitate his touching Romano's bare skin. Beneath him, Romano could feel his own arousal growing and pressing into the soft couch. He hated how easily the Spaniard could turn him on. Still, he could only stay angry for so long.

"Damn it, bastard, stop with the pretense and fuck me already," he growled. Spain chuckled low in his throat and grabbed the Italian's hips in his large hands, flipping the younger nation onto his back and winking in the darkness.

"As you wish," he purred. His hands gripped Romano's hips while he bent down to Romano's stomach, unbuttoning his vest and shirt with his teeth. Romano resisted the overwhelming urge to buck his hips up against Spain's touch. His erection strained against the thin fabric of his dress pants and the cool air tickling the skin on his now exposed stomach and chest made his skin tingle each time Spain's nose and chin brushed against it.

"Nnnnn, Spain," Romano mewled. Spain looked up from undoing the last of Romano's buttons.

" _¿Si, cielo?_ " Spain asked. Romano furrowed his brow at the demeaning nickname, but there was something he needed.

Unfortunately, before he could say anything more, his phone began to ring from his pants on the floor. Spain sat back, eyeing the singing material. Romano rolled onto his side to dig the phone out of his pocket, causing the remaining length of Spain's shaft to slide out of his ass. He whimpered at the feeling before pulling his phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Um…Hi, Romano? Hey, it's Canada," a small voice said. "I'm sorry to bother you at dinner time…"

"Canada? It's like, two in the morning," Romano grumbled.

"Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?"

Romano glanced at Spain, who was sitting cross-legged at Romano's feet, watching him intently. "Not exactly. What's going on?"

"Um…I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to talk to. I knew you'd at least listen."

Okay. Canada was generally apologetic but something was obviously very wrong. He almost never apologized for existing like this to Romano because he knew that Romano would kick his ass for it. He sat up straight, sitting on his knees on the couch.

"Hey, what's going on?" Romano repeated.

When Canada spoke again, Romano could hear the trembling of fear in his voice. "It's…Prussia. He's sick and…I'm afraid he's going to die."

Spain looked at Romano's intense face quizzically. "What is it, _querido_?" he asked. Romano covered the receiver.

"It's Canada. He said that Prussia's sick and might be dying."

"What!?" Spain demanded. "That's impossible. Señor Prussia can't die, he's a part of Germany now. What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, bastard! Just shut your stupid face for a second!" Romano removed his hand from the receiver. "What's wrong with him?"

"Well…he's been throwing up every day around supper time for a couple weeks, and he's tired and…kind of cranky to be honest."

Spain was listening carefully, trying to catch the words of the soft-spoken nation through the phone. "Maybe it's just drinking too much?" he suggested quietly.

"I said shut up!" Romano hissed. He ran the symptoms through his head. He had been one of the only people Canada had confided in about his relationship with Prussia, so Romano could understand why he was so upset. If anything were to happen to Spain he'd be frantic (though he wouldn't let anyone know). As he repeated the symptoms in his mind a few times, a troubling look crossed his face. "Canada…I need to ask you something sensitive. Have you ever..." Romano's face started to flush red and he became more and more frustrated by his embarrassment. "Dammit, have you fucked Prussia?"

Canada started coughing. "I…I don't know what…" Canada started to sputter. He took a deep breath and finally said, "Yeah, once, but I don't see how that's relevant…"

" _Porca miseria!_ " Romano hissed. "Canada, sit tight. Spain and I are gonna come over okay?"

Romano hung up the phone and looked up to see Spain staring at him incredulously. "What do you mean? We're going to _Canada's place?_ " Spain asked.

"Shut up and go pack your bags," Romano said, getting up and buttoning his shirt.

"What, we're leaving _now?_ " Spain asked. "Lovi, what is going on?"

Romano stopped tidying up to glare at Spain. "Stupid Spain, you haven't figured it out?" he threw the clothes at his lover. " _Prussia è incinta!_ " he spat before storming off toward the bedroom, grumbling to himself.

Within an hour, Spain and Romano were on a jet across the Atlantic towards Canada's house. They arrived at his front door early in the morning. Thankfully, Canada had called ahead and sent a car to pick them up and bring them back to his house. Romano knocked briskly on the door, Spain trailing behind him with their luggage. When the door swung open, Romano was met with the face of a very relieved Canadian.

"Lovino, thank goodness you're here. I just don't know what to do anymore," Canada sighed, wrapping his arms around the slightly smaller Italian man. Romano returned the hug.

"Don't worry about it," Romano said. When Canada pulled away, letting Romano and Spain into the house, he immediately began pacing around the rooms closest to the entry.

"I'm sorry about the mess. Can I make you some coffee? How was the flight? I'm sorry if I pulled you away from something important. Like I said, I just don't know what to do anymore," Canada fussed. Romano grabbed the blond man's arm, stealing his attention.

"Coffee would be _molto bene_ ," Romano said. Canada nodded and rushed into the kitchen. Spain set the bags down in the hallway and rested his hand on Romano's shoulder, the younger nation resting his hand on top.

"Poor kid," Romano said. "I don't know if I have the heart to tell him what's going on. If he's this jumpy now, imagine what he'll be like when he finds out."

" _Sì_ ," Spain replied. "I remember how I felt when you told me." He rubbed Romano's shoulder gently before kissing the top of the Italian's head. "Perhaps we should tell Señor Prussia first; see what he wants to do about everything."

Romano nodded. "Good idea."

Soon, Canada had prepared a pot of coffee and the three nations were sitting in the living room while Canada described the problems Prussia had been experiencing. Romano was already firmly set in his hypothesis, but the evidence Canada presented him with only reinforced the theory. It was a very rare event, but it was prone to happening every now and again.

"May we see Señor Prussia?" Spain asked finally as they finished the last sips of their coffee. Canada looked up, startled.

"Of course, I'm sorry," Canada said. Romano resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the constant apologies, but he knew nothing he said would change a man so set in his ways. "He's up in his bed right now. He might be sleeping, but he should have some water and a little food if he can keep it down anyway."

Canada rushed back to the kitchen and prepared a small plate of saltine crackers and a glass of water before leading the two visitors upstairs to the master bedroom. Inside, Prussia lay on his back in the bed, his skin almost translucent with how pale he was. Canada walked in first, sitting on the edge of the bed and setting the crackers and water on the side table. He gently rocked Prussia awake.

"Gil? There's some people here to see you, and I brought you something to eat. Do you think you can keep it down today?"

"Visitors?" Prussia asked in a raspy voice. "It's not my damn brother again, is it?"

"No, it's Antonio and Lovino. They came to see you," Canada repeated softly. Prussia slowly managed to get himself into a sitting position, with Canada arranging pillows behind his back to make him more comfortable. Despite his pallor, he gave the two visitors his familiar winning smile.

"Hey, guys, what's up? Has this old nag gotten you all worried about me?" he said, jabbing at Canada. "I keep telling him he's getting worked up over nothing, but he won't listen."

" _Holà, amigo,_ it's good to see you in such high spirits," Spain said amiably. Romano just gave a curt nod, as he usually did. "Canada was telling us all about your problems, and we thought it actually sounds like something Lovi had some time ago, so we came to help out however we can, okay?"

Something in both Prussia and Canada warmed up. If Romano had gone through it and came out fine, then surely Prussia could, too. But what would affect Romano and Prussia and not Canada or Spain, or anyone else for that matter? What did they have in common?

"Canada, would you mind if we had a minute alone with Señor Prussia?" Spain asked amiably. Canada seemed torn at the idea of leaving Prussia alone, but ultimately consented and ducked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He decided to busy himself in the kitchen, whipping up a batch of his world-famous pancakes. Once they were alone, Spain made his way over to Prussia's bedside.

" _Holà, colega_ ," he said cheerily, though there was something like sympathy in his voice. "How's it going?"

"Great. I'm awesome. I don't even know why Canada made you guys come all the way—"

Prussia cut himself off suddenly when he became significantly greener. Romano backed off and Spain moved to bring Prussia's bucket closer, but the albino waved him off, insisting dismissively, "I'm fine."

"You're definitely not 'fine', bastard," Romano interjected. "If you were fine then Matthew wouldn't have called me in tears at 2 o'clock in the fucking morning."

Prussia looked up in surprise. In tears? His birdie was crying because of him? "Why?" he mused aloud.

"'Cause he loves you and shit, and he thinks you're fucking _dying_."

Prussia paused, staring at Romano, before he finally whispered, "…so I'm not?"

"No, _imbecille_ , you're not."

"Then…" Prussia turned to look at Spain and for the first time in a long time he looked…helpless. "What's happening to me?

Spain sat down on the bed, and Romano found a seat in a chair near the door. Spain gently rested his hand on his friend's leg and Prussia's heart sank. He was about to get some very bad news from the looks of it.

"You probably didn't think this was possible. We didn't either, until after it was already too late, and it hasn't happened in millennia before that, at least not that anyone knows of."

Prussia rolled his eyes, but his heart was racing. "Look, can we stop beating around the fucking bush and just get to the point here?"

Spain bit his cheek and carried on, his hand rubbing small circles absently on Prussia's leg. "Sometimes, especially in countries which are split between two representatives, its possible for nations to…" Spain finally met Prussia's eyes, although the tanned man's gaze seemed to pass through the albino. "Sometimes nations can get pregnant."

The room was dead silent for several beats, until Prussia let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Oh! Oh man! That's a good one, _Freund!_ Ha! You had me going there for a second!"

Romano interjected impatiently, once again. "He's not joking, moron. It's true. And it's happened to you."

"How do you fucking know?" Prussia said, now irritated. Obviously this was not what he wanted to hear.

"Because, dickhead," Romano said, glaring at the floor with his arms crossed. "It happened to me."

Prussia stared at the youngest nation in the room for much longer than the brunette was comfortable, forcing him to hiss out, "You don't have to stare. I'm not some fucking sideshow freak." Prussia immediately looked away, instead deciding to fixate on where his stomach lay beneath the blankets. Could it be possible that he was pregnant? Could a life really be growing inside of him at that very moment? Sometimes Prussia felt as if he were old as dirt compared to the other countries that were still kicking around and even he'd never heard of anything like that happening.

"We wanted to tell you in private first so that you could decide what you wanted to do without feeling pressured," Spain explained when the silence had spread on for quite some time.

"Do?" Prussia said. "What is there _to_ do?"

"Well, one option is to keep it," Spain started. "But there's also adoption, or abortion if you don't want to keep it, and no one will think any less of you no matter what you decide."

Prussia was pale again. He looked ill, and even he thought he might be sick this time. This was a lot to take in all at once. He was feeling overwhelmed and upset, mixed emotions causing a turmoil inside of him which all together came across only as fear.

"Can I…can I sleep on this for a little while?" Prussia finally muttered. "I don't think I can make a decision like that right this second."

"No one is asking you to, _amigo_ ," Spain said gently, again rubbing circles on Prussia's knee. Prussia didn't move, only stared downward.

"Is…is there anything we can do to be sure? Before I have to make any big decisions?"

"We could get a home pregnancy test," Romano suggested from his spot near the door. "We could tell Matt that we forgot some toiletries and stuff."

Prussia shook his head. "That won't work. I'm pretty sure Mattie hoards those little shampoo and soap packages from hotels, and I think he's kept every toothbrush he's ever gotten from the dentist."

"We'll figure something out, _amigo_ ," Spain assured him. "For now, you should get your beauty rest."

Spain got up and started walking toward the where Romano stood. Before he could leave, Prussia called out, "Wait!" Both Mediterranean men turned to look at the albino.

"What?" Romano asked a little impatiently, but he sounded more sympathetic now. Prussia looked at him with quivering red eyes.

"Did you get an abortion?" he asked, noting that he'd never seen Romano heavily pregnant, nor had he seen either man with a baby nation running around.

"No," Romano said curtly. "I miscarried."


	6. Chapter 6

Welcome back again! Glad you're enjoying the story! Please let me know what you think in the reviews so I know what you think!

Chapter Six

Downstairs, Canada was just about through with his cooking when Spain and Romano descended the stairs. Canada looked up and the look in his eyes was almost frantic.

"How is he? Does he need anything? Did he say anything to you guys? What can I do?"

"Mattie, slow down," Romano said, grabbing his friend's shoulders and lowering him into the chair. "My god, have you been like this for weeks? How have you not had a heart attack?"

"I…I'm just so worried. Do you know what's going on?"

Romano's mind scrambled as he tried to come up with an answer. "Not yet, but we'll tell you when we know for sure. Now why don't you eat this food you made? When's the last time you ate?"

"Um…I don't know. I haven't been eating much since…since Gil got sick…"

Looking at him, Romano noticed that Canada was as pale as Prussia, which was disconcerting. Canada always had been concerned about everybody else's wellbeing, but when it came to Prussia, he seemed willing to completely ignore his own health in favour of offering support to his lover. Seemed like Romano had his work cut out for him to look after his friend.

"Okay, well, let's fix that, then," Romano said slowly. When he looked up, Spain had already prepared a plate for Canada from the pancakes that were sitting on the counter. It took a while to coax Canada to start eating, but when he did he instantly became ravenous, devouring three servings worth of food before so much as slowing down. With Canada distracted by his hunger, Romano interrupted him to get their task for Prussia done.

"I'm going to send Spain out to get some groceries for now, would you be able to call us a car?"

Canada glanced up with a mouthful of food. "Car? Take mine," he said, voice muffled. "The keys are hanging by the door."

Spain nodded and headed toward the entryway. Moments later, Canada's black SUV could be heard pulling out of the rocky driveway. Once the northern nation had finally stopped eating, Romano led him out to the living room and let Canada flip through the channels for a while before settling on some mindless Canadian sitcom about some guy who worked at a gas station. Romano watched for a while on the couch with Canada, trying to calm the blonde whenever he became suddenly anxious to check on Prussia, until a hard thump landed on his shoulder. When he looked over, he saw that Canada was fast asleep on him, his glasses having fallen askew from the landing. Carefully, Romano removed the eyewear just as Spain came back in through the front door. He peered into the living room as he passed through the hall, noting the Canadian asleep on his lover. Spain pulled out the home pregnancy kit and gave a thumbs-up and a stupid grin. Romano rolled his eyes.

"Great, just don't wake this bastard up," he hissed, referring to Canada. "God knows when the last time he slept was…"

Spain gave a nod and headed up the stairs to deliver his items to Prussia. When he entered the master bedroom, Prussia already looked leagues better than he had when he and Romano had first arrived. Closing the door quietly behind him, Spain dug into his grocery bag and handed over a bottle of blue Gatorade to Prussia.

"Here, have this, _hermano_ ," he said. "Lovi found it made him feel better and helped his tummy to stop flip-flopping all the time."

Prussia gratefully accepted the electrolytic beverage and sipped away at it, careful not to overindulge. While he drank, Spain pulled out the box which contained three home pregnancy tests for Prussia to confirm what, honestly, Spain and Romano already knew.

"We've been friends for a long time," Prussia mused quietly while he was taking a break from drinking. Spain nodded.

" _Sì, amigo,_ " he said. "A very long time."

Prussia turned to look at Spain. The lack of confidence and sparkle in his eyes was disconcerting. Spain hadn't seen him look that way since his dissolution more than half a century ago. "Why didn't you say anything about Romano? When did that even happen?"

"It was only a decade or so ago," Spain said, unusually somber. "We didn't tell anyone. I don't even think Feli knows. Romano didn't want to tell anyone, and when…when we lost it, that just reinforced the whole secret thing."

Prussia nodded and took a few more sips before asking, "How…how did that happen? When he lost it?"

"We don't know. I had hired a doctor from my country to tend to my Lovi, and no matter how many tests we did we couldn't figure it out, although the doctor told us most of the time you never even find out." Spain's gaze slowly became more and more distant. "Lovi was devastated. He wouldn't talk to me for days, just lie in bed or on the couch curled up in my arms. He needed to be very close during that time. He was very vulnerable."

Prussia stared at the place where this supposed baby might be. "What was it like?"

Spain smiled sadly. "I think Lovi would be the better person to ask. I didn't even know it was happening for hours after it started. Lovi can be stubborn like that, he thinks he should be able to handle things by himself."

Prussia made a mental note to talk more to Romano after he got the results from Spain's tests. When the Gatorade was gone, he got up from the bed and took the box that Spain had left beside him, carrying it over to the bathroom. Before he could go inside, he hesitated in the doorway. Spain noticed and spoke up when it was obvious that Prussia wasn't going to say anything.

"You don't have to be alone, if you don't want to," he said. He knew Prussia wasn't one to admit when he was afraid, but having been friends for so long, Spain could read right through him. Prussia nodded and stared at the box.

"Okay. What do I do?"

After Spain helped Prussia with the directions, which he was all too familiar with after helping Romano perform 45 of the tests just to be sure (and breaking the bank all the while), Spain waited outside while Prussia urinated on the test strips. Once he did, he came back outside of the bathroom and sat on the floor next to Spain. The tanned man suggested that Prussia lay the tests out on the floor while they wait. After five minutes, the waiting was over and Prussia could feel his stomach turning over and over in anxiety. Spain reached over and squeezed his friend's shoulder.

"On the count of three, okay?" he said. Prussia nodded. "One…two…three!"

Both men looked down and their eyes scanned over each of the three windows on the tests. Both Spain and Prussia were washed over with a mix of emotions. For Spain it felt almost like it had the first time he had done it with Romano, even though he was not directly involved with these outcomes.

Each little window showed two dark lines.

Each one showed that Prussia was pregnant.

"Okay," Prussia said. "Well, at least now it's obvious." Even as he said the words calmly, he was now as pale as a sheet again. He let his head fall back to rest on the wall, and Spain noticed that absently his hand had fallen to rest over the bottom of his belly.

"So…" Spain said, sliding the tests to the side. "What do you think you want to do? Remember, no one is making you keep it. Even Lovi is pro-choice."

Prussia sighed. He felt like he was going to be sick again, though it was for another reason now. "I don't know still."

"That's okay," Spain said gently. "Let's think about all the options. You could get an abortion…"

Prussia's hand tightened reflexively over his stomach at the suggestion. While the gesture was clear to Spain, Prussia still seemed to be considering the choice.

"Or you could put it up for adoption…"

Prussia's brow trembled a little, as if he was deep in thought, but suddenly Spain realized that his friend's eyes were becoming watery. Spain lightly squeezed Prussia's arm. "What are you thinking about?"

"Um…" Prussia choked out, swallowing hard to cover the crack in his voice, "I was thinking about Germany, when I first found him and he was so little, and he was lost in the woods wandering around all by himself, and I just felt this sense of duty to protect him. But also…something else, other than just duty. I…I think I cared about him, right from the moment I saw him…" Prussia's hand absently ran horizontally across his stomach. "Right now I feel like that again, only like, 100 times more."

"Then I think you know what you want to do," Spain said, a smile sneaking into his voice. Prussia nodded.

"I think I want to keep it."

Spain nodded. "So, are we going to tell Señor Canada?"

Prussia nodded as well. "I guess there's no time like the present."

When Spain came back downstairs, he found Canada and Romano in much the same position as they had been when he'd left, but now Canada's eyes were open, if only half-mast. When he entered the doorway, Romano looked up immediately, his gaze filled with anticipation. The question burning in his eyes was clear, and to it Spain only gave a small nod, but he couldn't keep the smile from appearing on his own face, which in turn subtly spread over Romano's. When Prussia entered the room behind Spain, Canada immediately perked up.

"Gil! You're up! Are you feeling better?"

"A little," Prussia replied. "Um…there's something I need to talk to you about, Matthew…"

Canada sat up, already nervous that Prussia was using his full name. Romano took the opportunity to get up from the couch, opening the spot for Prussia to sit down. Romano and Spain subtly excused themselves as Prussia sat down next to Canada and took the younger nation's hands in his own.

"Mattie, there's something I need to tell you and you're gonna be pretty weirded out at first, but hear me out, okay?" He squeezed Canada's hands as he continued. "Romano and Spain told me what they thought might be wrong, and I thought it was weird at first too, but I took a bunch of tests and…Mattie…" Prussia swallowed hard, fearing his reaction. "Mattie, I'm pregnant."

Canada was totally silent for a couple of minutes, but to Prussia it felt like hours. Canada mulled over this new information, his expression slowly becoming more and more panicked with each passing second.

"Okay, alright, this is gonna be okay, Gil. We can figure this out. Abortion is legal here, and there's like, 3 clinics right here in Ottawa, we'll find someone we can explain the situation to and we'll make it work and…"

"Mattie…" Prussia interrupted, his heart sinking a little, his hand moving out of Canada's to rest protectively over his stomach, "I want to keep it."

Canada's eyes widened. For a moment, Prussia panicked. Did Canada not want him to keep it? He had thought that making the decision himself was going to be the most difficult part. Before he could worry much more, Canada whispered, "Are you serious?"

When Prussia nodded, a huge grin burst over Canada's face and he leapt forward and wrapped his arms around Prussia.

"Oh, my _God!_ We're going to have a _baby!_ " he cried, tears pouring from his eyes and onto Prussia's shoulder. "I always wanted a family but I…I didn't think it was _possible!_ "

Prussia held his lover tightly, gently rubbing his back. It was at least comforting to have an answer, but he was still nervous about the idea of going through a pregnancy. When Canada finally pulled away, his face was sober and he met Prussia's eyes.

"Are you sure about this? It's going to be hard on you and there's going to be a lot of explaining to do to Germany and my brother, and France and England…I mean, I'll totally support you no matter what and I'll be right here with you the whole time…"

Prussia squeezed Canada's shoulders. "I'm sure. I want to have this baby with you."

Canada fell back into Prussia's arms, embracing him. "I love you so much, Gil."

"I love you too, Mattie."

When Romano and Spain sensed that the tension had turned to celebration, they gave the couple a few more minutes alone before they entered the room. Spain squeezed Prussia's shoulder and Romano ruffled Canada's hair. Canada turned to look at Romano and his eyes were almost accusatory.

"So you guys knew this whole time?" he demanded. "And what did you mean, something like this happened to you? What does that even mean in this context?"

"Lovi was pregnant about fifteen years ago," Spain explained lightly. Sensing from Romano's rigidity that something hadn't gone as planned, Canada silenced himself and instead focussed on Prussia again. He we ask more later.

"I still can't believe this happened after one time…" Canada mused. Spain nodded.

"Yeah, Lovi and I had been doing it for years, but most of the time we used protection because Lovi thought I had a disease," Spain said, laughing. Romano rolled his eyes.

"Well maybe I wouldn't have if you didn't have to fuck everything in a fucking skirt," Romano hissed, kicking Spain in the shin. Spain winced, but the grin on his face didn't falter.


	7. Chapter 7

What? I haven't died? Nope. And I didn't forget about you either. Every Monday my reminder to upload would pop up and I'd be ridden with guilt. I had a really hard time with this chapter, even though it and 3 more are already written, but when I went back to read it I didn't like the way it was written, and then I rewrote it and still didn't like it, but I think I'm finally at least content with it.

Warning: this chapter contains some really emotional and difficult stuff as it goes into Romano's miscarriage. I tried to handle it as honestly and delicately as possible while still staying true to the experiences I've collected from my research. There's a double space where it begins and ends so feel free to skip over if you're not comfortable reading that.

Next chapter will post on Monday as usual.

* * *

Chapter Seven

Romano and Spain decided they would stay for the first few months of Prussia's pregnancy, helping the two to adjust to the changes and reassure Canada. However, in the last couple of months, they tended to come and go as work called them away. Canada appreciated the support, and Romano assured the blonde that they'd be back often, and would spend the first few months after Prussia gave birth to help with the baby.

After a few more weeks had passed by, Prussia was no longer feeling as ill, and would only sometimes lose his appetite. More and more, though he was instead demanding Canada put together an unusual combination of foods to eat, including maple-infused kraut on pancakes, which made Canada gag even as he made it for his lover. At night, Prussia would wake Canada up frequently with trips to the bathroom as his bladder seemed to have decreased significantly in size.

One morning, while eating breakfast, Canada decided it was time to breach a topic they'd been avoiding for weeks.

"So, who are we going to tell?" Canada asked. Prussia, inhaling his kra ut cakes, didn't even look up. Instead, he made a sound of uncertainty which was highly muffled due to the amount of starchy food crammed into his mouth.

"Do you want to tell Germany?" Canada asked. "I mean, he is your brother, after all, maybe he'd be able to help us out, too."

"West won't understand," Prussia said after swallowing. "You saw him when he found out about our relationship. He doesn't see anything past political convenience. He won't understand why I would keep this baby."

Prussia ran a hand over the slight lump below his belly button where his baby lay. Canada nodded and Prussia noticed him scratch a pencil across paper. Suddenly it occurred to Prussia that his lover had a _list_ of countries they may want to tell.

"Okay, well what about France? He's your best friend, and my papa, I'm sure he'd want to know."

"Yeah, definitely have to tell Francis, especially since Tonio knows."

Canada nodded and made a little checking motion on his notepad. They went through more people and narrowed the list down to people who would be immediately impacted: France, England, America, and Germany (despite Prussia's protests). Canada would also have to tell his boss at some point.

"So…we should probably start making calls, eh?" Canada said, organising his list. Prussia shook his head and looked frantic for half a second.

"No!" he exclaimed despite himself. After taking a moment to collect himself, he continued. "Not yet. We should give it…some more time. I don't want to get people's hopes up."

"Get people's…what are you talking about?" Canada asked, looking with concern at Prussia. The red eyes stared at the table, not wanting to meet amethyst ones.

"N-nothing. I just think we should wait." In the time since Romano and Spain had returned home, Prussia had felt an increasing bond with the baby he was growing, and every time something happened, like he tripped or felt a discomfort in his abdomen, he was filled with a dread that he would lose it, just as Romano had. Although he didn't say anything to Canada (he knew that Canada would panic more than he was), the fear that spread through him was crippling and made him want to do nothing but lie in bed and be safe.

"Okay," Canada said finally, tucking the notepad into his back pocket. "If that's what you want then I'm totally okay with that." Prussia nodded and shrunk in on himself a little. Canada got up from the dining chair to return to the kitchen to clean up. When Prussia had eaten his fill, he got up and started to head upstairs, telling Canada that he was feeling warn-out and wanted to lie down by himself for a while. Instead of going to sleep, though, he pulled out his cell phone and dialled South Italy.

"Romano speaking," the voice said after a few ringtones had rung through the receiver.

"Hey, um…it's uh, Prussia—er, Gilbert," Prussia muttered softly, uncomfortably. He couldn't believe he was really doing this.

"Gilbert? Hey, is everything okay?"

"Um…yeah I think," Prussia replied. "I was…I was wondering if I could ask you about your…your miscarriage," he finally explained. "I've been really, uh…scared I guess, that it'll happen to me too." After a moment of pause, Prussia added, "If you don't want to that's fine too. I get it, it's kind of a sensitive topic."

"No, it's okay," Romano said. "Just…let me move to my office, okay?"

The line was replaced with the sounds of muttering further away from the receiver and a door and lock being shut. When Romano's voice returned, there was no background noise.

"Does Mattie know you're worried about this?" Romano asked, but he already knew the answer before Prussia had a chance to speak.

"No," Prussia replied anyway. Silently, Romano nodded and leant over on his desk.

"Okay well if you think it'll help, I'll tell you, but just keep in mind no one knows except bastard Spain and only because he was there, so I'm not used to telling the story out loud."

Prussia made a noise of acknowledgement, urging Romano to continue. A long deep breath carried across the line and Romano began his story.

Somehow, Romano had managed to keep his pregnancy a secret from everyone, even his own brother. Since Veneziano was the primary correspondent for the country of Italy, Romano didn't have many responsibilities he had to attend to besides his work in the mafia, which he could fairly easily complete from home. Spain was away on a business trip, leaving Romano alone in the big Spanish house with half a dozen tubs of ice cream in the fridge for him to enjoy. He already had a significant bump which he now struggled to cover with baggy clothing, and the back pain and muscle aches had started and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and watch sitcoms on TV. He was able to understand Spanish fluently from growing up in the country, so he could enjoy Spanish daytime TV even without the subtitles. Despite this, Spain and Romano preferred to speak English to each other, if only because they were equally matched in the non-native tongue.

Through the day, while Romano enjoyed a quart of chocolate ripple ice cream, he started to feel cramping discomfort in his abdomen. For a while, he didn't think much of it. In fact, he went to bed with a warm therapeutic bag resting against his back. However, around midnight, Romano awoke as the pain had escalated a hundred-fold and now left him moaning in his too-big bed. He did his best to breathe through the pain like he had read, but even having no real knowledge of the pregnancy experience, Romano knew that something wasn't right.

When Romano suddenly felt like he needed to use the bathroom, he leapt out of bed and ran to the master bath. As he used the toilet, something felt very, very wrong. His stomach was cramping more than ever before. His legs felt weak as he tried to hold back tears of fear. Many thoughts were rushing through his head; Had he done something to make himself sick? Was he going to be okay? Was the baby?

Romano shuddered and suddenly felt like he was…empty. It wasn't the way you feel empty when you get the stomach flu and vomit until there's nothing left. It was like…some part of him had just…disappeared. It was unnerving and suddenly Romano felt a lump in his throat and a burning in his eyes. Unable to contain himself, he sobbed harder than he ever had. He was afraid and alone and he didn't know what to do, and all of that fear just seemed to come out in cries that almost reached the level of screams.

When Spain finally arrived home, it was early morning. The sun hadn't fully come over the horizon yet. He had taken the quickest flight out of Mexico, unable to stay away from his Lovi for too long. When he entered the house, the first thing he saw was the empty abandoned pint of ice cream. He smiled, thinking of his lover's unappeasable appetite, especially for sweets. He shucked his coat on the back of the couch and left his luggage in the hall. As he neared his bedroom, he could hear whimpering coming from inside. In a heartbeat, Spain took off running toward the bedroom, then followed the noises into the bathroom where he stopped dead in the doorway. Romano was still sitting on the toilet, his head in his hands and tears still dripping down his arms and legs. Spain knelt on the floor in front of Romano and held his arms, trying to look into his eyes.

"Romano? What's wrong? What happened?" he asked. As he did, the sharp metallic smell of blood stung his nose and he began to panic even more. He began checking Romano over for cuts or other wounds. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? I knew I shouldn't have left you alone."

Romano shook his head and pushed Spain's hands away feebly. He opened his mouth to talk, but instead just started crying hoarsely again. Spain held Romano as tightly as the awkward position would allow and gently kissed his head.

" _Querido_ , what's happened? Talk to me, _querido_."

Romano hiccupped and finally made eye contact with Spain. "She's gone," he whimpered.

"What do you mean? Who's gone?" Spain wondered, thinking of a relative or old friend. He hadn't heard of any nation fading while he was away, usually that was really big news. When Romano cast his eyes downward though, Spain felt his heart drop into his stomach. She…she was the baby. Romano had always thought he was carrying a girl. The baby was gone.

At Spain's expression, Romano started to wail again, a string of apologies spilling from him in a variety of languages. Spain firmly grabbed Romano's face in his hands, forcing the younger nation to make eye contact with him.

"Romano, don't you _dare_ apologize to me, or to anyone," he said. "This is not your fault."

Romano sniffled. "I didn't take care of her well enough. I'm not a good _mamma_."

" _Querido_ , you were an amazing mother. You just never got your chance," Spain insisted. "Sometimes, things aren't working right and mother nature takes control. She knows what's best for both of you."

Cleaning Romano off with a damp cloth, Spain filled the bathtub with warm water and helped Romano in, sliding in behind him. He let Romano sit between his legs and kissed his shoulders and neck, gently running his hand through his lover's hair. Romano tried not to let Spain know, but he couldn't stop the quiet tears from rolling down his face. Spain held him tight, unsure what to do besides try to make his lover feel safe and accepted in this difficult time.

"Roma, it's okay. I love you so much," Spain said. "Our baby is safe _al cielo_."

Now even Spain was sheading some tears. They stayed in the tub long after the water had turned cold. For a few days, Romano wandered the house almost like a zombie. He didn't speak to Spain and was only in Spain's presence when he ate a few bites of the meals Spain made before disappearing. After four days, and endless hours on the internet researching miscarriage and grief management, Spain found Romano lying on the bed with his eyes closed.

"Lovi? I have something I want to show you," he said. Romano opened his eyes and turned to look at Spain. The pain in his eyes sent a twinge of pain through Spain's heart. He helped Romano out of the bed and led him down to the back yard, where their garden grew. At the back of the garden there was a tree which Romano had planted during his time as Spain's ward and was now fully grown. Next to the tree, there was now several flowers planted into the ground around a rock. Engraved on the rock were the words, _Mai nelle mie braccia, sempre nel mio cuore_ : Never in my arms, always in my heart. Romano stood before it, his lower lip quivering, before he wrapped his arms around Spain's chest, fisting his hands into the back of the Spaniard's shirt and burying his face in his chest.

"Thank you," he mumbled into the shirt. " _Ti amo_."

" _Te amo mucho,_ Lovi."

"…so don't worry about it," Romano said. "If it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen, there's nothing you can do about it."

Prussia nodded, holding the phone to his ear. He chalked up the feeling of burning in his eyes to the hormones the pregnancy was inflicting on him. He offered his appreciation to Romano for confiding in him and for reassuring him not to worry before letting him get back to work. Just as he was ending the call, Canada peered into the room, seeing Prussia lying in bed staring at the ceiling, his brow trembling.

"Hey, you're not asleep," Canada pointed out. When Prussia didn't say anything, Canada walked closer and sat down on the bed. He could see that Prussia was trying hard to keep the sides of his mouth from pulling down to the point that his jaw was quivering, and he could see the shimmer of tears pooling at the corners of Prussia's eyes.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Canada asked gently, brushing the silver bangs from Prussia's forehead. Prussia's lips trembled and he shook his head no as the first tears spilt from his eyes. Canada panicked for a moment, not sure what to do, but Prussia helped him decide by nuzzling his face into Canada's lap. Canada held his head and stroked his hair comfortingly.

"Shh, Gil, everything's okay," he crooned, unsure what else to do. "I'm right here. Everything's okay."

Prussia shook with silent sobs and Canada held him tight. After a few moments, he ventured to ask, "Do you wanna talk about it?" to which Prussia replied by shaking his head no. Canada laid down in the bed and held Prussia to his shoulder, rubbing his back and saying any soothing thing he could think of until Prussia finally fell asleep.


End file.
